


this bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere

by MayWilder



Series: justify my existence [6]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anti-Rhaegar Targaryen, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Lyanna is Not a Stark, Manipulation, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-major character suicide, Princess Elia loves her Lady Lyanna, Rhaegar sucks, talk of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 20:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18858274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: “You’re going to court!”“This isn’t the fifteen-hundreds, Ash, I’m not going to ‘court.’”“You’re moving to the palace for the summer, Ly. At the invitation of the princess. You’re going to court, and Father is thrilled.”“Well, I’m not going for him. I’m going for me.”--Or, Lyanna becomes Elia's personal companion at court. From there, what else could they do, but fall in love?





	this bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the "i think its called love" universe. You can think of it as a prequel of sorts. As a reminder, Dorne replaces Spain in the modern world, and Westeros replaces the British Isles.  
> The non-consensual sex is not graphic, but please read the tags and take care of yourself. There are also mentions of suicide and depression.  
> Also, please note: my Spanish sucks, and at best is very formal.  
> \--  
> Title is from "Sun Rising" by John Donne
> 
> ***I realize now that in "i think its called love" I made Rhaenys younger, but while writing this I realized that Rhaenys was actually older than Aegon. I will be fixing my other story to line up correctly.

_I wish I were dead._

 

“Lyanna, dear, please pay attention,” Leonard insists. “Robert is coming this way.”

 

Lyanna looks up to see her fiancé across the field, leading his horse. She knows he’s trying to win her affection (and horses are certainly the way to go), but he will also place his hand on her bum and whisper the filthy things he’ll do to her when they’re married. She doesn’t think she can stomach that today.

 

At least, not sober.

 

“Oh, Father,” she sighs dramatically. “You’ve finished your drink. I’ll get you a refill.”

 

Leonard Dayne frowns. “Lyanna—

 

“It’ll take but a moment!” Lyanna wiggles her fingers in a dismissal that she knows she’ll receive a backhand for later.

 

She brushes the thought aside and makes her way to the bar. The bartender knows her from many of the royal family’s events and wordlessly nods. He slides a shot glass and a bottle of tequila her way. Lyanna downs two before she feels like she can even consider letting Robert touch her. She then turns her head to see if the sight of him still makes her skin crawl. Instead of seeing Robert, however, her eyes catch sight of Princess Elia and her heart stops.

 

Lyanna has only seen Elia in magazines, other than the worldwide broadcast of the royal wedding. She wasn’t allowed to leave Starfall until her engagement to Robert. This is the first time she’s seen the other woman in person, and she is gorgeous. Her black hair goes against the usual fashion and falls in long, loose curls down her back. She’s all slender beauty, with dark, clever eyes that contrast to her sweet smile.

 

And she is walking to the bar.

 

“Pardon me,” the princess says in a gentle voice. “Would you mind sharing that?”

 

“I’m already three in.” Lyanna’s casual tone hopefully hides her stuttering heart. She pours a shot for the princess and slides it over. The other woman shoots it back, eyes watering while she purses her lips. “Do you not like tequila?”

 

“Not one bit,” Elia coughs. She glances over her shoulder where the prince is conversing with Leonard and Robert. “But that man is so…”

 

Lyanna pours the princess another shot.

 

“Brutish.”

 

“I understand,” Lyanna chuckles. “He’s very bold.”

 

“It’s awful,” Elia sighs before drinking her next shot. When she next speaks, her voice is raspy from the burn of the tequila and Lyanna is suddenly glad for etiquette classes—she somehow represses the shiver that trails up her spine. “I pity the woman who ends up with him.”

 

“I’ll drink to that,” Lyanna laughs. She takes one more shot, finally feeling the relaxation buzz through her body. She eyes the princess, who coughs again. “You don’t drink very often, do you?”

 

“No,” Elia moans, letting her chin tuck in slightly. “I do not. It isn’t becoming of a princess.”

 

“Or a lady.”

 

“And yet you seem a professional.”

 

“My father kept me rather secluded. Naturally, that means I’m adept at sneaking out to parties. What can I say? I’m a cliché.”

 

Elia smiles and Lyanna forgets to breathe. “Well, I love a cliché.”

 

“Then you’ll love that I snuck out by climbing down the wall of ivy outside my window. I’m practically a Shakespearean novel waiting to happen.”

 

“Or an American movie star.”

 

Lyanna wiggles her eyebrows. “Sign me up for the red carpet.”

 

Elia laughs. “I must return, _pero ha sido un placer conocerte_.”

 

“ _Y tu, princesa_.”

 

**)-(**

 

Lyanna is coming back from a ride when Ashara runs up to the horse, breathing heavily. “Ly! Princess Elia is here!”

 

Lyanna feels her heart pound in her chest. She’s spent the last few days obsessing over the little interaction with the princess, closing her eyes and remembering her laugh, or the sense of kinship at shared horror over Robert’s personality.

 

“At Starfall?” Lyanna gapes. “What brings her here?”

 

“She’s asking for you, specifically,” her sister wrings her hands. “Father says you must make yourself presentable and come to the parlor.”

 

“Will you help me?”

 

“Always.”

 

The sisters give the reins to the stable hands before rushing through the servant’s entrances. With Ashara’s help, it takes Lyanna only ten minutes to wipe the dirt from her skin and change into a blue sundress. She runs a brush through her hair and slides into a pair of sandals before hurrying to the parlor.

 

Elia is waiting, wearing a white pantsuit and holding a large white hat in her lap. Her long hair is down again, a mess of curls that look as if they’ve been styled to be perfectly tousled. When she turns to look at Lyanna, she smiles brightly. “Lady Lyanna! _Buenos dias, mi dama_.”

 

“ _Princesa_.” Lyanna curtsies. “ _Bienvenido_.”

 

“Princess Elia has asked if you might give her a tour of the gardens,” Leonard says politely, though his eyes convey that there is no room for disagreement. “I trust you’ll be very welcoming.”

 

“Of course, Father,” Lyanna says respectfully. “I’ll make sure Miss. Susan has tea prepared for our return.”

 

The two women casually link arms and smile at the gruff lord. Lyanna leads the princess through the conservatory and directly into the gardens, where a path of perfectly smooth earth leads them towards Ashara’s prized roses. Elia comments lightly on the weather as they stroll away from Leonard. It isn’t until they are alone and out of view that Elia grasps Lyanna’s hands and turns to her with pleading eyes. “Lady Lyanna, you must forgive me for my words about your fiancé at Highgarden. I was mortified when Robert pointed you out. My behavior was most unbecoming.”

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Lyanna assures her. “It was a relief to share the pain of Robert’s mouth for a moment.”

 

“But he is your fiancé,” Elia frowns. “Do you not love him?”

 

“Love him?” Lyanna scoffs. The concept is enough to drive away the excitement that came from Elia holding her hands. “I barely know him. Our marriage is arranged, its so goddamn _medieval._ ”

 

“Do you not have a choice?”

 

“I might rebel against my father, but Arthur and Ashara do not. If I said no, my father would put me out  and forbid my siblings from contacting me. They would listen out of fear and misplaced love. I would never see them again.”

 

“And you’re certain you would be kicked out of your home for refusing his proposal?”

 

“My father stands to gain a massive amount of money from my marriage to Robert.”

 

“In what way?” Elia hooks her arm through Lyanna’s and resumes their walk through the garden. “You can’t possibly have a dowry.”

 

“I do not, but Robert is investing in Father’s business. He sent the money the day Father gave his blessing for us to marry. I’d only accompanied him to one match before he asked for my hand. Father made it clear that if I said no, I would be out on my own and shunned from polite society. I couldn’t bare to be apart from my siblings. They are all I’ve ever had in the world. And with Robert, its not as if he would abuse me, which is more than I can say for my father. Ned—that’s Ashara’s boyfriend, and one of my closest friends—insists that Robert loves me in his own way.”

 

“If he loves you—

 

“Why does he fuck every woman he comes across?”

 

Elia looks surprised at the language, but Lyanna simply turns her gaze back to the roses to ignore the rise of frustration in her chest. When the princess next speaks, her voice is gentle and understanding. “Tensions were high between Dorne and Westeros. My brother wasn’t very fond of Aerys, so he sent Oberyn and I here to attempt to mend the friendship. Aerys misunderstood the visit and assumed a relationship was blossoming between Rhaegar and I, as we got along fairly well. Rhaegar and my brother spoke at length at the subject and decided that it was best to follow through, so we could appease Aerys and smooth over relations. Your prime minister was very thankful.”

 

“And you?” Lyanna whispers in question. She turns to the wide brown eyes of the princess. Despite their topic of conversation, a warm feeling blossoms in her chest at the thought of caramel and hazelnut chocolates. “Were you happy?”

 

“I was, and am, content.”

 

“Content,” Lyanna breathes. She closes her eyes and feels the warmth on her face. “I don’t believe I have ever been content, trapped in the prison my father has created. Do you know my trip to that polo match in Highgarden was the first time I’ve been out of this damned town?”

 

“And where would you go, if you could?”

 

“I think King’s Landing would be an efficient start. After that…perhaps _everywhere_.”

 

Elia smiles again, a glint in her eye. “My lady, I don’t suppose your father would ever say no to a princess?”

 

**)-(**

 

_“You’re going to court!”_

_“This isn’t the fifteen-hundreds, Ash, I’m not going to ‘court.’”_

_“You’re moving to the palace for the summer, Ly. At the invitation of the princess. You’re going to court, and Father is thrilled.”_

_“Well, I’m not going for him. I’m going for me.”_

 

King’s Landing is dirtier than Lyanna expected. She knew that cities were different than the country side, but it was still surprising to have so many people packed into so large an area. Walking through the gates of the Red Keep was such a startling difference that Lyanna doesn’t wonder at Elia feeling a little bit trapped, even in such a city.

 

“I don’t get out much without an escort,” Elia explains as they wind up the hill towards the palace. “Rhaegar always says I’m too delicate, I could be hurt, so I never truly get to experience the city.”

 

Lyanna frowns. Sure, Elia is thin and a little short, but her eyes are steely, and she wears posture like armor. “Why does he think you’re so delicate?”

 

“I’ve a complicated medical history,” Elia rolls her eyes. “My body doesn’t seem to keep the muscle mass it needs, I am anemic, and my immune system is…how do you say, shit?”

 

“I see. So, what I’m hearing is that you’ve not had a chance for any real adventure?”

 

Elia looks wary. “I wonder if it was a mistake to rescue you from your daily life at Starfall.”

 

“Make no mistake, _princesa_ ,” Lyanna says with a wink. “I’m going to be rescuing you.”

 

And that, of course, is how Lyanna ends up smuggling Elia out of the palace and into London nightlife.

 

)-(

 

Elia is a philanthropist.

 

“Most people think I’m this way for publicity,” Elia says softly. She and Lyanna are creating seating charts for the next gala Elia is hosting—a dinner to raise money for homeless youth in Westeros. “But its not true. I simply can’t go anywhere without cameras intruding on my life, and the palace staff thinks it’s best to highlight my work. Often, people don’t know I’m sincere. I don’t do it so people think I’m good, but it is mildly frustrating.”

 

“I think people are less harsh than you give them credit for,” Lyanna answers. She smirks as she places Lady Olenna Tyrell next to her father. Watching the woman rip apart Leonard will make for a lovely dinner party. “That picture of you, kissing that girl with leprosy on the forehead, proves that its not publicity. You stood in front of the entire world and gave that girl something she’s been denied by people’s fears: human contact. It’s not possible for someone to look at that picture and not see your kindness.”

 

“I suppose,” Elia looks thoughtful. “You should read the letters that Adea sends. She’s determined to come to Westeros when she’s cured and be a scientist.”

 

“You still write to her?”

 

“Of course. She’s a very dear friend of mine.”

 

“Why do I feel as if you’ll put her through medical school?”

 

“I don’t take your meaning.”

 

Lyanna raises an eyebrow at Elia, watching at the princess simply stands and changes the subject. “Lyanna, why are you placed next to your father?”

 

“That’s how these events are structured—

 

“No, darling, you’re next to me. You came here to get away from your father.”

 

Elia promptly picks up Lyanna’s name and places it next to Elia’s name. “Elia, I can’t sit with the royal family!”

 

“And why not?” Elia counters. “I place all my friends there.”

 

“You don’t have friends.”

 

Elia makes an indignant noise, and the girls fall into laughter.

 

**)-(**

 

“Oh really, must they follow us everywhere?”

 

Lyanna follows Elia’s gaze, which has landed on a photographer standing outside the boutique they’re shopping in. The man is eagerly snapping photos of Elia and Lyanna. “What do you expect, babe? You’re the princess, and I’m the south’s very own recluse.”

 

“Are you a recluse if you’ve been locked up against your will?”

 

“The papers don’t know my father’s parental failings.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Anyways, you look fabulous in that. Why not show it off a bit?” Lyanna motions to the grey, sequined dress Elia wears. “Come, strike a pose.”

 

“You think?”

 

“I insist!”

 

The next morning, Elia strides into Lyanna’s chambers holding a newspaper. On the front cover is a photo of Elia and Lyanna, arms linked and striking exaggerated poses for the camera man. Elia is wearing a smile brighter than Lyanna’s ever seen before, and the sight makes her throat go a little dry.

 

She clears it and wipes at her eyes. “Brilliant. Can I go back to sleep now?”

 

Elia giggles and collapses onto the bed next to Lyanna. Its not a terrible way to spend a Sunday morning.

 

**)-(**

 

“Lyanna!” Elia calls. “Wait up, you know I can’t keep up with you!”

 

Lyanna turns. Elia looks paler than she should, clearly out of breath as people rush around them in an attempt to get closer to the stage. Lyanna suddenly feels guilty because she knows that Elia tires easily. So she jogs back to her friend with a smile. “Sorry, babe. Hop on!”

 

“Your back?”

 

“Obviously. Don’t you know I’m ripped? It’ll be a breeze, come on. We need to see Freddie Mercury up close.”

 

Lyanna hears Elia breathe harshly once, twice, before hopping onto Lyanna’s back. Lyanna catches her thin legs, ignoring how her heart rate spikes at hands on bare thighs. Is it wrong to enjoy the feeling of having Elia wrapped around her, even though the princess doesn’t know about Lyanna’s attraction?

 

“I thought we were supposed to be moving faster,” Elia whispers in her ear. The hair on Lyanna’s neck rises. “Queen awaits.”

 

The first few notes of Bohemian Rhapsody come through the speakers, and Lyanna runs. Elia holds on tight, laughs loudly, and Lyanna starts to fall in love.

 

**)-(**

 

Rhaegar joins them for breakfast one morning. Lyanna hasn’t really spent much time with him, as he’s always so busy with other women or his princely duties. She doesn’t quite enjoy the sight of him—weather its because his dismissal of Elia or her own guilt as wanting the man’s wife, she doesn’t know.

 

“You two are all I see in the papers as of late,” he comments, kissing Elia’s cheek. “You seem rather inseparable.”

 

“Completely and utterly,” Lyanna replies around a large bite of toast. “I think I’ll have to steal her away myself.”

 

“Nonsense,” Rhaegar laughs. “You’ll just have to start joining us.”

 

**)-(**

 

And that is how Lyanna starts traveling the world with Elia.

 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Elia groans. “I am a grown woman. I have a child I take care of, I shouldn’t be here—

 

“El, babe!” Lyanna laughs and pulls on her best friend’s hands. “Take deep breaths. It’s cliff jumping into warm, mild waters. There’s no danger. And your daughter is loving this!”

 

They look down at the waterfall, where Rhaegar has Rhaenys on his shoulders, both watching the pair from the base. “Jump, _mama_!”

 

“The girl wants you to jump,” Lyanna grins. She holds out her hand. “Elia, we’re in Hawaii. Let loose!”

 

And Elia slowly reaches out to take Lyanna’s hand. Their fingers link together. “ _Ay, Dios mio_.”

 

“Love you too, El.”

 

And they jump.

 

**)-(**

 

“We aren’t taking Rhaenys and Dany to the Opera,” Lyanna insists, arms crossed at Rhaegar. The man purses his lips. “Your Highness, they are both under the age of five. They shouldn’t be at the opera.”

 

“Where else do you suppose we take them?” Rhaegar challenges. “I have an engagement with Lord Berlioz, we can’t snub him.”

 

“So take Jon, he’s your best friend and speaks better French than anyone else here. El and I could take the kids to, I don’t know, Disneyland.”

 

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” Elia cuts in. She lays a hand on Rhaegar’s arm, but the prince barely looks at her. Instead, he keeps his gaze on Lyanna. “We’ll have a splendid time, and you won’t have to worry about the children crying during the performance.”

 

“Very well,” Rhaegar snaps. He turns on his heel and strides from the room with mutterings of ‘damned woman.’

 

Lyanna turns to her friend with a shrug. “That could have gone worse, yeah?”

 

Elia shakes her head, but can’t hide the smile.

 

**)-(**

 

Robert calls every so often. They’ve made no progress with wedding planning, but he isn’t bothered too badly.

 

“Live your life before you have a house to keep,” he says with a boom of laughter. “And I’ll live mine.”

 

Lyanna prays the wedding never comes.

 

**)-(**

 

Often, Elia finds her chambers lonely. Rhaegar doesn’t sleep there unless he’s trying to get her pregnant again, so the princess sometimes comes to Lyanna’s chambers at night. She plops onto the bed that’s too big for one person and faces Lyanna.

 

“Why is that women are never satisfied,” she begins one night. “In the name of obedience, duty, loyalty…and men do not care one bit?”

 

“I don’t know,” Lyanna whispers back. She reaches for Elia’s hands to offer comfort. “But he’s an idiot, babe. He thinks he’s so smart, that he knows whats right for everyone, but he’s an absolute dolt because you, Elia, are a fucking catch.”

 

Elia shakes her head. “I can’t keep up with his…appetite. That’s why he only visits when I’m ovulating.”

 

“Because he’s a selfish arse. Why does he want another kid when he has Rhaenys, who is fucking perfect? Why does he want another child when he has you?”

 

“Ly—

 

“No, you’re brilliant. You’re so smart and clever, and you’re gorgeous, and you’ve the kindest soul in the world. That’s worth more than an heir, or some other woman who can bend six different ways.”

 

Elia doesn’t say anything at first. She shifts in the lowlight of the lamp, blinking way tears. “Lyanna, I’m unhappy. Rhaegar doesn’t care how I feel, in bed or in person, and he barely visits his daughter. I’m so terribly lonely. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.”

 

“You’d be strong and beautiful,” Lyanna insists. “You’d still be raising money for charities and taking care of the city.”

 

“But I wouldn’t be traveling the world or having any fun,” Elia replies. “I know you don’t get to see Ashara and Arthur as much because you’re with me, but you’ve no idea what you brought me. I can’t thank you enough. _Te amo_.”

 

“ _Te amo_ , Elia.”

 

_Fuck you, Rhaegar Targaryen._

**)-(**

 

“This doesn’t make sense.”

 

“Brandon and Rickard both died in that car crash,” Ashara cries into Lyanna’s neck. “So, everything is different. He doesn’t get to be the second son. He isn’t going back into the military, he’s going to take over the estate and the family business. He has responsibilities now.”

 

Lyanna holds her sister as she cries harder. “Did he say it was completely over?”

 

“No, he just…says he needs time alone to grieve and start over.”

 

“Well, there’s hope in the future, then.”

 

Ashara only cries harder. Arthur looks on with a helpless shrug, only able to wordlessly pat Ashara’s back. Lyanna knows he’s thinking about Ashara’s depression and worrying, just as she is. She’s suddenly thankful that Elia offered for Ashara and Arthur to come visit.

 

“I’m going to run to down to the kitchens and get you some tea, alright?” Lyanna murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”

 

In the kitchens is where she meets Rhaegar. He’s standing by a fridge, fork poised at the edge of a cake that’s already half gone. “Oh! Your Highness, forgive me. I was just making some tea for my sister.”

 

“Go on,” Rhaegar says mildly. He’s eyeing Lyanna, possibly taking in her form in too-small pajamas that she hasn’t thought about changing. The only one who normally sees her in them is Elia. “Is Lady Ashara well?”

 

“Lord Ed—Stark, he was her boyfriend. Since that awful crash, he’s going to take some time to himself, so he ended things with Ashara. She’s upset.”

 

“Naturally,” he says kindly. “Lyanna, I hope you know that any of your…needs will be tended to, during your stay here?”

 

“Of course I do,” Lyanna answers. “Elia is quick to take care of me.”

 

“She would not be the only one,” Rhaegar pushes. “Remember that, Lyanna.”

 

She leaves the kitchen without making any tea.

 

**)-(**

 

Remarkably, Elia isn’t the only Targaryen that takes a liking to Lyanna.

 

Rhaenys is open about her affection.

 

“Auntie Lyanna!” the little princess says, running into Lyanna’s arms. “You came back!”

 

“Of course, my darling,” Lyanna giggles. “I was only visiting my brother and sister. I could never leave you for too long.”

 

Rhaenys holds tighter. “Good. Mama and I missed you.”

 

“And I missed you.”

 

“Can we go riding? Daddy gave me a new pony!”

 

“I would like nothing more.”

 

Later, when Rhaenys falls asleep tucked between Elia and Lyanna, it strikes Lyanna that in another world, this could be their family. The three of them, happy and content.

 

Unfortunately, that is not this world.

 

**)-(**

 

“Your mining company is doing well, is it not, Lord Dayne?”

 

“Yes,” Leonard says in clear surprise. “I did not realize you noticed, Your Highness.”

 

“Of course.” Rhaegar smirks into his drink. “My father always says that any man, even a prince, must have his own investments.”

 

His eyes flicker to Lyanna.

 

“I wouldn’t know anything of investments.” Lyanna waves her hands in what she hopes is a graceful way. “With all this talk of business, I believe I’ll go find Princess Elia.”

 

“Nonsense,” Rhaegar says breezily. “You must dance with me. Elia says you’re very talented.”

 

“Erm, I—” with a glance, she sees her father’s hardened eyes and understands that his threat still stands. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

So she takes his hand and moves to the dance floor. Over the prince’s shoulder, Leonard Dayne watches with a smirk on his face and Lyanna knows what this means.

 

_You’ll do whatever it takes to make him happy, Lyanna, if you ever want to see your siblings again._

_I’ll take them and run!_

_With what money? Where will you go?_

_Elia will protect me._

_Elia has no power, and there is nobody else who would take you in, nowhere you can go that I would not find you. You’re mine, girl, and you’ll do as I say!_

 

**)-(**

 

Lyanna steps under the hot stream of water, reaching immediately for the washcloth. She pours the soap onto her skin and begins to scrub, sobbing as she tries to wash away everything. His cologne, his whiskey-tinted breath, his hands sticky from alcohol. She tries to close her eyes without seeing that smug face while he pumps into her, pleased at another conquest—

 

_“Your father is pleased with my investment in his business.”_

_“Yes, I assume so,” Lyanna swallows. “I-I believe I should find Elia, Your Highness—_

_“Elia is with Rhaenys,” he cuts her off, setting aside his glass. “I think you and I could have a much more productive conversation.”_

 

“Bloody bastard!” she yells, throwing the soap bottle away from her. It clatters in the large shower, but it isn’t enough. “Fucking shite, threatening me with Ash…”

 

 _Elia_ , she thinks as another sob rips from her throat and she falls to her knees in the shower. Rhaegar hadn’t even bothered to use a condom. No, he fucked her the same way he fucked Elia and now, now—

 

Lyanna feels repulsed.

 

_I have to find Elia._

 

She turns off the water and scrambles out of the shower. She barely dries herself before she shoves on her jeans and sweatshirt. She runs from the room seconds later. Her chambers are only a corridor down from Elia’s so her increased pace makes its so she barely counts to ten before she’s bursting into Elia’s bedchamber. The princess is wearing her favorite nightgown, yellow with white lace, and reading by the fireplace.

 

She’s the most beautiful person in the world.

 

“I love you,” Lyanna sobs. “Not in the way you love me, and not like I love Ashara. I love you, and I want you, and I would die for you, and you’re going to _hate me_.”

 

“Ly, I could never,” Elia starts, looking over Lyanna’s haggard experience. “What’s happened? Your skin, _carina, ¿por qué es tan roja?_ ”

 

“You’ll hate me,” Lyanna sobs, trying to pull away from Elia. The princess latches on, but she jerks back. “I’m disgusting, but Father said he’d send them away, and if I ran with them, that he would find us, and I’ve…oh, Elia, please forgive me.”

 

She falls again, Elia catching her. “I would never hate you, Lyanna, _dime que está mal_.”

 

“Father said to make him happy, and he…he kissed me. I wanted to leave, but he was drunk and he pushed me onto the couch. I wanted to leave, I did, but I thought about Ashara and Arthur, and if I leave, then Ashara will have to take my place—

 

Elia’s grip slackens just so as realization dawns on her face. “Rhaegar. He wanted you.”

 

Lyanna stifles another sob and looks up at the princess. “I understand if you want to send me away.”

 

“Send you away? _Lyanna_ …”

 

Elia stands. She strides across the room, to the table beside her reading chair. Lyanna watches in confusion as the other woman digs around a drawer before pulling something out that glints when the light catches. The princess then walks over, kneeling in front of Lyanna and dropping it into her hands. A ring falls into Lyanna’s palm, a vintage ring with an oval shaped diamond.

 

“What—

 

“It was my mother’s ring,” Elia says. Her eyes are shining with tears. When she blinks, one falls and its unfair that she looks even prettier. “She told me, I should only give it to the one I love most, to… _mi sol, mi alma_.”

 

_My sun, my soul._

 

“You love me?” Lyanna gasps. She wipes furiously at her face to stop crying. “I would never have guessed, you never seemed...”

 

“I told you, Ly.”

 

“I thought you meant as a friend.”

 

“ _Si, pero mas_. How can I not love you?” Elia strokes Lyanna’s cheek. “So full of life, so… _vibrante_. You make me feel, Lyanna, as if I’m alive. And I’m obviously not as good a person as you say if you believe that I will hate you because you were put into an impossible situation.”

 

“No, you are good, Elia.” Lyanna cups her closest friend’s face. “You are all the good things in the world, and what I’ve done is—its unforgiveable. You have every right to send me away.”

 

“ _My alma_ , no…”

 

 _My soul, that has to mean something_.

 

So Lyanna is incredibly reckless and kisses Elia. Its foolish, they’ve shared the same bed of the same man and there is a chance this is too much, but the diamond cuts into her palm and she thinks _P erhaps this what we both need._

 

Elia gasps, but leans into the kiss eagerly. She tastes like cinnamon tea and vanilla lip gloss, smells like the roses of her shampoo and kisses desperately. Lyanna feels her head spinning with something like desire or joy, or the place where they conjoin. Regardless, it’s the best she’s felt in a long time, pulling Elia into her lap and relishing in this.

 

“ _Te amo,_ Lyanna,” the princess breathes against Lyanna’s lips. “ _Prometo nunca enviarte lejos. Quédate conmigo, yo te cuidaré_.”

 

“ _Tu siempre tinenes, mi amor_ ,” Lyanna replies. “Always, always have. I don’t deserve you.”

 

“ _Disparates_.” Elia kisses her again. “This ring is a promise, Lyanna. That I am yours, and if you so desire, you are mine.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Come to bed?”

 

“Yes.”

 

**)-(**

 

“I don’t know whether to be jealous of the women in your past or thankful for your expertise,” Elia panted, fingers still clenched in the sheets as she relaxes. “Regardless, that was… _de otro mundo_.”

 

Lyanna stops peppering kisses across Elia’s shaking thighs to laugh. “Otherworldly, hmm?”

 

“ _¡Sí! He probado los cielos_.”

 

Laughing again, Lyanna crawls up Elia’s body to kiss her neck, shoulders, jaw—everywhere she can reach. “And how do the heavens taste, babe?”

 

“Like your favorite dessert,” Elia whispers. Her brown eyes are unguarded and warm as she looks up at Elia. “The tiramisu we ate in Verona. It tastes like my lip gloss on your lips, feels like the energy of a rock concert in New York City. Looks like you do when you ride horses.”

 

“Oh, Elia…” Lyanna kisses her again, marveling at the blanket permission Elia offered only a few hours ago. _Whenever, wherever, I want you. Unless I say otherwise, kiss me, shag me, taste me. Anything and everything, with you_. “Let’s run away. Take Rhaenys and Daenerys to…Italy.”

 

“France,” Elia counters. “My brother has a flat in Paris. Rhaegar has an engagement, so we’ll have no need of the royal residence. In Paris, they don’t care if two women love each other. For one weekend, there would be no need to hide. We’ll be together in the most beautiful city in the world.”

 

“Let’s go, then.”

 

**)-(**

 

Jon Connington is head of Rhaegar’s security. So, it is no surprise when Rhaegar offers the man as “extra precaution.” Lyanna knows they’re being watched and despises the prince for it.

 

“I’m not the enemy, you know.”

 

Lyanna looks up with a frown. Rhaenys is asleep on her lap, dark lashes fluttering with a dream as she curls against Lyanna’s chest. “Yes, Sir Jon. I’m aware.”

 

“I may protect Rhaegar, but I am not his spy.” Jon sits across from her on the plane, in the seat Elia vacated in an attempt to go soothe Daenerys’ cries. “You haven’t any need to avoid me.”

 

Lyanna strokes Rhaenys’ curls (so like her mother’s) and says nothing.

 

“You don’t have to… _hide_ from me.”

 

The way he says ‘hide’ sticks out to Lyanna. She looks up curiously and sees a familiar sort of pain in the guard’s expression. “Jon…you love him, don’t you?”

 

Jon stiffens. “I don’t take your meaning.”

 

“You love Rhaegar,” Lyanna says softly. “I know that look, Jon. You love a royal that you think will never be yours. God, what is that like? To love a man like him?”

 

Jon doesn’t answer the question. Instead, he stands and adjusts his jacket. “I’ll watch the kids when you and Elia go dancing. There’s a club where you won’t be recognized because nobody will be looking.”

 

“I guess I know why you love France so much,” Lyanna muses sadly. “Our dear prince likes all manner of company.”

 

“When you don’t think you can have anything, you take what he offers.”

 

“I didn’t want what he offered. He gave it to me anyway.”

 

“I didn’t say it was right, or that it was good. It’s just love, my lady.”

 

Lyanna wonders what Elia could possibly do that would make Lyanna love her less.

 

There isn’t anything, and Lyanna understands Jon a bit more.

 

**)-(**

For some time, things are perfect.

 

Elia and Lyanna appear to have no outwardly changes. They continue to take the children on vacation, to go to concerts and shows. They spend plenty of time in Paris, dancing long into the night and making love until the sun rises. Lyanna wears Elia’s ring, barely sees Robert, and visits her siblings regularly. Leonard Dayne is happy, Rhaegar seems satisfied to let the women run amuck, and Lyanna feels as if she could live the rest of her life this way.

 

And then, Elia is with child.

 

She cries in relief at knowing Rhaegar will leave her be, but Lyanna is nervous and resentful. She stays up many nights, looking into the fireplace and simply worrying.

 

One such night, Elia crawls out of bed to see what’s wrong. She looks radiant, of course, in cotton nightgowns that show off the way her stomach is already beginning to swell. There’s something warm and domestic about her, despite the tiredness that has come from the stress on her body.

 

“ _Mi amor_ , it is late,” Elia yawns. She runs her hands along Lyanna’s arms. “Come to bed.”

 

“You may not survive another pregnancy,” Lyanna says tightly. “Rhaegar knows this, and he still…that _bastard_. He cares more about another child than he does about your health.”

 

“We promised to never say his name here.”

 

“He is everywhere, there is no escape. And you-you could die, and he doesn’t care. I hate him for that above anything else.”

 

“I will be healthy, as will my child,” Elia whispers, kissing Lyanna’s hair. “Nothing so trivial as death could separate us, hmm? Now, please come to bed. Rhaenys is starting ballet tomorrow and she insists we are both there. _Tia Lya_ bought her those pretty shoes, after all.”

 

Lyanna smiles and takes Elia’s hand. There’s a tired plea to Elia’s tone, and she knows that now is not the time. “Of course, darling, I’m sorry.”

 

The bigger Elia gets, the less Rhaegar is around. When the princess is ordered to rest in bed for the health of the baby and herself, Lyanna takes up bed rest with her. They eat, watch movies, read, and gossip. Really, its anything that Lyanna thinks will keep her girlfriend sane. Her favorite moments are when Rhaenys comes in and shows them her dance routine before laying across Elia’s stomach and holding Lyanna’s hand.

 

“I want a baby brother,” the little princess says sleepily. “So we can dance together!”

 

“You will be a magnificent dancer, little one,” Lyanna promises. “You will dance forever, yes?”

 

She yawns dramatically. “Love you, _Tia Lya_.”

 

“I love you too, Rhae.”

 

Elia catches Lyanna’s eye and smiles, even as a single tear slides down her cheek. For that moment, they can pretend that theirs is a different family, and dream of a different life.

 

**)-(**

 

The oddest addition to Elia’s daily routine is Jon Connington. Rhaegar decides that Elia can’t be trusted to stay in bed and sends Jon as someone to watch over Elia and “ensure her health.” It’s a control mechanism that makes Lyanna despise him more. To some extent, however, it makes Jon more appealing. The man is quiet and reserved, but kind and attentive to anything either woman needs. He clearly loves Rhaenys and harbors great respect for Elia.

 

One day, Jon casually labels the three of them as “The Gay Disasters Club” and she thinks they might become the best of friends.

 

**)-(**

 

In the second trimester, Lyanna’s contentment is interrupted by grief. Ashara’s depression has reared its ugly head and taken her life in a terrible fall from Starfall’s highest towers.

 

Leonard does not seem to care. Arthur refuses to leave his room or speak to Lyanna. Lyanna feels lost and confused.

 

Ned Stark finds her at the funeral. He’s met someone else, but he still looks crestfallen. “If you ever need anything, Lyanna, you can always come to Winterfell. I always thought you would be a sister to me, but when I came back a few months ago, she hadn’t forgiven me. Perhaps if I had waited—

 

“Catelyn Tully is a good woman,” Lyanna stops him tearfully. “You should never let guilt from this stop your own happiness. Ashara made her own choices, and she was s-sick. This is nobody’s fault. I don’t even believe it’s hers.”

 

They share a hug, and Lyanna is alone by Ashara’s grave again.

 

Except…

 

“My lady,” Jon Connington says from her side. “I believe it is best you let me escort you back to the palace now. The princess will be missing you.”

 

Lyanna looks up and sees various heads of noble houses coming towards her, ready to offer fake condolences and sneering comments. She sees what Jon is doing and lets him lead her away to the car. The tinted windows make the town car seem darker and give a sense of quiet that Lyanna both loves and hates.

 

There is a long stretch of that silence. Jon appears content to sit by her side without saying anything. She tries to draw strength from this, searches for the right thing to say, but everything feels off kilter. There is uncertainty, frustration, and—

 

“I thought she was getting better,” she eventually whispers, looking at her own hands. They’re covered in black lace, gloves that itch and bother her. Yet, she can’t seem to remove them. “I truthfully thought things were getting better, but I’ve been so selfish. I focus so much on Elia, on my own happiness in King’s Landing that I…oh, Jon. Did I abandon her?”

 

She looks up now, tears falling again. “Did I abandon my sister, when she needed me most?”

 

“No, Lyanna.” Jon reaches for her hands. He pulls the gloves off of her, offering sweet relief. Their fingers link together. “Your sister was sick, and sometimes the sickest people hide things the best way. Suicide, even when thought about at length, still takes a moment of decision. Sometimes, people are caught in that moment. Even healthy people have moments that are too powerful. Whatever happened, it was not your fault, and you cannot be blamed.”

 

“I’ll never know, though, will I?” Lyanna asks. Everything _hurts_. “I’ll never know, because I can’t ask her! There’s no second chance, no way to know how to have prevented it—

 

“And there is no sense in trying to understand,” Jon cuts her off. He brushes her tears away now. “Ashara’s choice to do this was not your fault, regardless of what the reason was. Maybe there was no reason. You’re right when you say there is a way for you to know, so you must grieve her loss, but find a way to celebrate her life by living yours fully.”

 

“How does that celebrate her life?”

 

“Because you will not waste the life you have, the mental health you have, the love you have. Life is fleeting, Lyanna, and we must enjoy what we have for those who could not.”

 

The rest of the ride is silent as Lyanna cries silently. Her head rests on Jon’s shoulders, and she feels an odd kinship with him. He always seems to understand her, to reveal that he has felt pain similar to hers without ever explicitly telling her about his past. It’s a comfort, to find someone so willing to share pieces of their darker sides to help someone else. Jon is, among many things, a good friend.

 

Upon the return to the palace, Elia is waiting in bed with open arms. Lyanna easily falls into the familiar embrace, fingers and lips finding as many pulse points as she can because the princess is alive, heart beating and lungs breathing, and nothing soothes the pain of loss as well as that.

 

It is much later when Rhaenys brings them her famously terrible cupcakes and Lyanna knows how greatly she is cared for. This life she lives is a blessing, a beautiful one she will not waste.

 

**)-(**

 

Jon comes in one night, looking heartbroken. “Ly, he’s asking for you.”

 

Elia covers her face and takes a deep breath while Lyanna shakily removes the ring from her right hand. When the princess looks down and sees, she gasps out a small sob. “Why does he…why, Jon?”

 

“I wish I knew,” Jon croaks.

 

“I can’t say no,” Lyanna whispers. “Arthur is all I have left and if Rhaegar withdraws his investment…he and my father have an understanding, Leonard will know—”

 

“I understand,” Elia says. “But this time, let there be no misunderstanding between us.”

 

Stifling another sob, Elia reaches for her family ring. She takes the diamond Robert had given Lyanna and throws it across the room before replacing it with her own. “Your heart is mine, and no man can have it.”

 

Lyanna shares a kiss with her lover, nodding. “I swear to you, I love you, and I hate him.”

 

Hours later, when Lyanna is pulling the bedsheets back around her body, Jon rushes in, breathless.

 

“Your Highness,” he says, determinedly not looking at Lyanna. “Princess Elia, she’s in labor.”

 

“Excellent,” Rhaegar chirps. He reaches for his trousers and throws a wink to Lyanna. “We best get to the hospital then, eh?”

 

Lyanna hates him, hates him with all of her might.

 

**)-(**

 

Elia’s screams are heard throughout the hospital. Lyanna holds Jon’s hand to stop how she trembles, nervous and scared and angrier than ever.

 

A nurse comes out to Rhaegar and Lyanna. “Your Highness, my lady…I believe it is wise to prepare for the worst. Princess Elia’s heart is weak, and the blood loss is putting more stress on it than the doctors would like.”

 

Lyanna clenches her fists when Rhaegar says, “And my son?”

 

“All signs point to a healthy baby, but we may have to do a c-section if the princess cannot breach the child herself.”

 

Rhaegar hums in disapproval, but nods. He looks to his security. “I’ll need to go speak with my father about the different press conferences to be prepared for. Jon, alert me when anything changes.”

 

The moment he’s gone, Lyanna lets out an angry yell. “I’ll kill him if she dies, Jon. I’m sorry, I know you love him, but I will—

 

“Elia will survive,” Jon says defiantly. He looks so certain. “She will, because she is so incredibly strong.”

 

They take another seat, holding hands once more.

 

It feels like hours later when the doctor exits. He’s covered in blood, but he’s smiling. “A healthy prince, and a stable princess.”

 

Lyanna shakes. “Stable?”

 

“She needs rest, very little movement or excitement,” the doctor answers. He’s looking at Jon as he speaks, as per Rhaegar’s orders upon entering the hospital. “And she’ll remain here until she’s regained her strength, but I believe she will make a full recovery.”

 

“May we…?”

 

“If you promise to sit in silence and not attempt to wake her.”

 

And so, Lyanna falls asleep to the beat of Elia’s heart monitor, finding comfort in the sound of life. 

 

**)-(**

 

“He’s so handsome,” Jon whispers in awe. He’s holding the newest addition, Aegon, while Elia leans tiredly into Lyanna. For the moment, they are alone. “Rhaegar’s eyes and hair, but Elia…he looks exactly like you. Gorgeous.”

 

Lyanna is still wary of the infant. “He almost killed you, El.”

 

“The doctors say I only need rest,” Elia says hoarsely. “And you were always on the other side of the door. I was not worried for a moment.”

 

“Ly worries enough for all of us,” Jon snarks.

 

“You should be worried about what I’ll do to you. Horse whips have many uses.”

 

“Believe me darling, I know.”

 

Lyanna pretends to gag, while Elia laughs weakly. “Thank you, the both of you, for how you’ve come together since the pregnancy. You’ve kept me sane and….” Her eyes find Lyanna’s. “Alive. Not just existing, but living, with the two of you.”

 

Lyanna glances over at the infant, who’s nose is the same shape as his mother’s. “I suppose he’s rather tolerable, isn’t he?”

 

Lyanna finally holds him, and its impossible not to love something that is so much of Elia.

 

 _Very well_ , she thinks as she looks down at his little toes and fingers. _You have my heart as well._

 

**)-(**

 

She’s twirling Rhaenys in circles when it happens.

 

Though her stomach has been upset all day, she’s been able to keep down food. When Rhaenys asks to go to the park, Lyanna is helpless to say no while Elia still recovers from Aegon’s birth. So, Jon escorts them to a park, where they have a lovely time until Lyanna is so overcome with nausea that she practically throws Rhaenys into Jon’s arms and runs to empty her lunch into the nearest bin.

 

“You’ve been with the Crown Princess, and around Elia’s weakened system,” Jon says breathlessly. “You must go to the doctor.”

 

**)-(**

 

She’s at the hospital with Jon when Rhaegar steps into her private room. He looks angry, in that terribly calm way of his that speaks to an outburst if provoked.

 

“I thought your ring was familiar,” he says, without preamble. “It struck me, when I saw that you had taken off Robert’s ring. I entertained the idea that you might hold affection for me, when I came across a picture of Elia’s mother. That ring holds great importance to my wife. I was there when the old woman told Elia to only give it to someone she truly loves.”

 

Jon looks pale, but Lyanna sees red. “You find your affections everywhere but with her. Why should she not do the same?”

 

“Because I will not be made a fool of.”

 

“ _You’ve_ made a fool of _her_! Time after time with the women you’ve brought to your bed!”

 

“You are one of those women, lest you forget, Lady Lyanna.”

 

“We both know I have not been a willing participant, you _arrogant arsehole_!”

 

“You will not talk to me like that, you little—” Rhaegar raises his hand as if to strike her. Lyanna braces for impact that never comes, as Jon has stepped between the two and wrapped his fingers around the prince’s wrist. “Jon, step aside.”

 

“Speak your mind,” the security guard snaps. “But do not lay a hand on her.”

 

Rhaegar jerks his arm away. “If you care so much for Lady Dayne, you may accompany her wherever she goes. You both will leave King’s Landing as soon as you leave this hospital. You will say nothing to your families, to your friends. You will disappear from the south. You don’t have to leave the country, of course, but you will not stay here, and you will never speak to Elia or my children again.”

 

Dread was a thick feeling, like sludge trying to pump through her veins and completely failing. “Not even a goodbye?”

 

“Not even a goodbye,” Rhaegar repeats.

 

The doctor returns, and Lyanna is pregnant.

 

**)-(**

 

There’s a small flat in Wintertown. It’s in the middle of the city, but it’s twenty minutes away from Ned Stark’s ancestral home. The man and his wife have promised to offer help in any way they can and ensure she and Jon stay out of the spotlight.

 

“I can’t work,” Lyanna says as she and Jon shop for groceries. “And neither can you. We’ll be too easily recognized, especially me. My face has been plastered across every newspaper for a year. How will we survive?”

 

“Rhaegar gave me money,” Jon answers. He looks miserable lately. Lyanna supposes that being exiled by the man you love will do that. “It’s hidden in the floorboards and there is plenty of it to last us, comfortably, until long after that baby is born.”

 

She looks at the shelf, where large blocks of cheese wait. She throws three into the cart. “I miss Elia.”

 

“I do too,” Jon sighs. “Maybe not the same, of course, but I love her too.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

“Do you think she hates us?”

 

“Elia isn’t capable of hate,” Lyanna sniffles. “But she’s alone now, in that fucking palace, and nobody will take care of her.”

 

“Rhaegar would have destroyed the both of you if you didn’t leave,” Jon says. “He told me, when he gave me the money, that Elia would never see her children again if you didn’t leave.”

 

“I never doubted that. Predictable bastard.”

 

**)-(**

 

Catelyn Stark is pregnant as well. She and Lyanna decide on nursery colors together, themes and furniture and anything else women do when excitedly preparing for their children.

 

Lyanna presses a hand to the stomach that hasn’t begun to swell, nerves alighting her. “Cat. I need to tell you something.”

 

“Of course,” Cat answers. She flips through color chips casually. “What’s happened?”

 

Her always calm demeanor almost reminds Lyanna of Elia. She brushes away the pain that accompanies that thought and continues on.

 

“I don’t know if I want this baby,” she admits. “Is that…is that terrible? That I don’t think I can carry this child, knowing who it belongs to?”

 

“It is a child, Lyanna,” Catelyn says pointedly. She does not look up from her task. “It belongs to nobody. When it is born, it will be someone of your blood, but not your belonging, not Rhaegar’s belonging. As much as we don’t want them to be, children are their own creatures. It is arrogant of us to believe they belong to us unless they choose so.”

 

Lyanna frowns.

 

“Do you belong to your father?”

 

“No,” she answers sharply. At understanding, Lyanna sighs. “You think I should give it a chance.”

 

“I think you have experienced too much loss, too much pain. What you decide to do with this pregnancy is, of course, your choice, and you will have whatever support you need. I simply suggest that you make sure this choice is made with the right reason. It is not something you can ever reverse, and the heart behind your reasoning will affect your future in ways you could not imagine.”

 

She pauses again, finally looking up. “Whatever your decision is, you are supported.”

 

In the end, Lyanna decides to keep the baby.

 

Catelyn pretends she doesn’t care but is clearly delighted.

 

“We’ll go stroller shopping next week.”

 

And that’s that.

 

**)-(**

 

“Jon, if I were attracted to men, I believe I would marry you.”

 

“Marry me, even if you aren’t attracted to me.”

 

The reply is nowhere near what Lyanna expected. She looks at Jon in bewilderment, but the man only hums gently as he uses a drill to put a crib together. “Jon Connington, explain yourself.”

 

“I don’t believe my twisted heart will ever love another man,” Jon says slowly. “And you, Lyanna, are my partner and best friend. I’ve already decided to love this child. I’m committed to you for life.”

 

“Oh, Jon.” Lyanna waddles to him and lowers herself on the ground as well. “You are my partner, forever. Marriage, however, is something I’ve always resigned to never having because I can’t marry a woman. And, anyone other than Elia…”

 

“I understand,” Jon chuckles. “At least allow me to get you a necklace or something, as a symbol of whatever kind of love this is.”

 

“Neverending,” Lyanna suggests. She smiles slightly at him. “I don’t care that we can never be what each other will really want, because you’re what I need, Jon. My closest friend and the love of my fucking life.”

 

Jon smiles brightly, tears in his eyes. “I’ll nick some money from the floorboards. We’ll buy a diamond house or whatever shite it is that the upper classes buy.”

 

“Jon…you _are_ the upper class.”

 

“Was I ever, really?”

 

**)-(**

 

Jon rubs Lyanna’s feet when they swell and bakes all manner of pastry for their weekly tea with the Starks. They take solace in the cold weather and jokingly (but also legally) change their names to Jon and Lyanna Snow. Nights are filled with Elia’s favorite books and old records. They never speak of Rhaegar, only drink hot chocolate and enjoy cheesy American movies. They buy matching wedding bands, promising a lifetime of partnership, even if they’ll never be exactly what they wish they could be. It’s enough, Lyanna thinks every morning when she rolls over to see Jon’s placed a steaming cup of tea at her bedside.

 

“Living,” Jon says one evening over a game of chess, ring glinting from the fireplace. “Not simply existing, but living. That’s what Elia would have wanted.”

 

She looks down at her own ring resting on the swell of her belly and nods. “Yes. Living.”

 

**)-(**

 

Jon goes out for ice cream one night, even though its snowing, because Lyanna is craving it.

 

The roads are too icy for cars.

 

Lyanna takes Jon’s wedding band from the police officers and collapses under the weight of her pain.

 

_Am I forever cursed to be alone?_

 

**)-(**

 

Oddly enough, Catelyn and Lyanna go into labor at the same time. It’s a mess of screaming and crying, Ned hopping between two rooms to offer comfort and see to everyone’s needs. In the end, Lyanna is with a nurse when she gives birth. The child, blessedly, looks very little like Rhaegar. A boy, but one who looks exactly like Lyanna.

 

“What will you name him?” Ned asks later, when he’s holding the bundle of warmth.

 

Lyanna thinks about the man who became her best friend, who protected her despite how much he loved Rhaegar. She thinks of the man who swore to stand by her for the rest of his life, but didn’t live much longer because he died to get her ice cream in January.

 

“Jon Snow,” she sighs, blinking as one tear falls. “His name…is Jon Snow.”

 

 _And may his life be more blessed than mine_.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm maywildflowers on tumblr. Hit me up for a trash can of my faves.


End file.
